Soliloquy
by lizteroid
Summary: Another MauraxIan HetFic. Rated for situation.


_Author's Note:_ I quite like Maura/Ian. Firstly, I love Jonathan Cake (JCake) who played Ian in the episode, and secondly, I thought he was nice. He made Maura happy, and that was lovely.

**Disclaimer: **as always, I own nothing. Rights (and props) to TNT, Janet Tamaro, Tess Gerritsen.

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><p>It had been almost three weeks since Ian had left her, and Maura was suffering the loss of his form beside her in the bed they'd shared for those several days while he had visited her. This particular night however, Maura was really feeling lonely, she missed Ian terribly and no matter how many times she tried, she could not find herself drifting into slumber.<p>

She had been tossing and turning for most of the night, and awoke from her semi-consciousness with a start, sitting bolt upright, the covers falling from around her and providing her chest with ample chills from the cooler night air. Looking to her bedside table, Maura shighed heavily as she read the time on her alarm clock.

**2:47**

The timer blinked, announcing each passing second, taunting her with seconds lost to consciousness instead of sleep.

Maura flopped back against her pillow, turning her head to gaze at the empty space beside her in the bed. The space Ian had occupied before leaving her. Leaving her sheets cold and her body colder. He had kept her warmed during the nights he had stayed there, when she hadn't been out at a crime scene. It was in fact, Ian's fault that she had dressed odd shoes the night he had arrived and she'd been called out to the crime scene; a father and son had been beaten, the father murdered by a through-and-through.

As she thought back to that evening, the night she had been casually sitting perusing over her paperwork when Ian had arrived unannounced on her porch and she had leapt into his arms, continuing their torrid and ongoing love affair amidst the flowing wine and reports, and envelope of the cushions on the sofa. Maura closed her eyes over, inhaling deeply before she swallowed. She could still smell Ian's scent lingering around the linens on her bed.

Furrowing her brows, eyes still closed, Maura grabbed the pillow from beside her and she clung to it. She held it against her body, against her naked form and she inhaled again. Ian's scent floated into her nostrils before migrating further, sending signals to her brain. She could smell him, smell their passions, their exertions.

Frustrated, Maura snaked her hand tirelessly down her body, sighing harshly as she could feel her muscles snapping taught as though it were Ian's hand travelling the length of her torso to her hip, circling the skin there, she made her hand do exactly as Ian had done each night before they drifted off together. She gathered the pillow closer to her chest, holding it flush against her body with her free arm as she allowed nimble fingers to skirt around her neat pubic area.

She shivered at the sensation, fingers combing through trimmed hair before reaching the most sensitive part; the rose colored bud.

As Maura began to rub lazy circles, she opened her eyes cautiously, to be sure she was alone and this wasn't some evil trick being played upon her. Maura swallowed, closing her eyes and drawing her attention back to the matter at hand; she had to at least feel something to fill the void that now had overcome her life since her love had left her.

She continued to rub and flick, and trace, trying to bring herself to climax without the help of Ian. Although she missed the physicality of their love affair, Maura actually missed Ian. She could have a mature and like-minded conversation with him about molecular structures or what he thought about sutures. She missed him holding her to him, the kisses and the tender touches.

Maura was focusing all her willpower and attention on that tiny part of her anatomy where thousands of nerve endings were sending signals of pleasure to her brain, telling her to come. And boy, did she want to. She felt herself hot, bothered, sticky and even more frustrated.

Yes, the Doctor was frustrated.

Frustrated she couldn't sleep. Frustrated Ian had left her. Frustrated she couldn't climax.

Eventually, Maura slowed her fingers and left her hand there as she opened her eyes, the scent from Ian still emanating from that pillow she clung to like a life raft, as if she squeezed it tightly enough, Ian would reappear to her. But, he didn't, of course.

Maura blinked slowly as she watched a set of car headlights tracking across her ceiling as a car rolled by her home slowly and passed before she brought her other hand away from center and wrapped her arm around the pillow as she rolled onto her side then. She turned her back on the alarm clock, looking toward the window and she sighed, not heavy or harshly this time, just a sad and lonely sigh as she felt a tear slowly tracing down her cheek and onto her own pillow, before she brought one of her legs up to curl around the pillow in her arms.

"Ian...I miss you. Why did you have to leave me? Again...?" she whispered into the pillow, "You could have stayed. Here. With me..." Maura spoke into the linen as she felt another tear escape custody of her lashes before joining the other in a damp patch on the pillow beneath her head as she began to slowly drift away, dreaming about the day the two could be reunited again.


End file.
